AN:

Well, that schedule I put up is completely shot. This isn't Friday at all! So we're going to try to shoot for a weekly schedule now, and we can ramp it up higher if we find that we need to. I'm done with school for a while, so I may find much more free time on my hands. Regardless, I'll try to aim to have the next chapter up by at latest this same day next week.

More comments! I love it, I love it to death, and I can't get enough! Nephilim, your comments are always positive and cheerful, really helps with the self-esteem. When I post a chapter I always look forward to seeing what you think of it.

Sage, your lengthy praise is music to my ears. I'm glad you liked the combat scenes; martial arts is one of my greatest passions in life, and I try to use some of what I've learned to give a sense of realism and flavor to the way the scenes progress. Finn's fighting style is based largely on Filipino Martial Arts, like Silat and Kali, which are known for extremely comprehensive weapons skills, including sticks and both small and large blades. You put something sharp in Finn's hands, and he'll find a way to kill you with it, no matter what it, or you, may be. ;)

Well, here's my present to you readers this Christmas. It's our spiciest chapter yet, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2: The Bite

The two of them sat there for a while, lying on opposite sides of the staircase. Marceline quickly fell asleep, and Finn thought that it was probably for the best. It'd be unwise for them to continue until she regained her full strength. How long that'd be, Finn had no idea, but her burns seemed to be closing themselves, ever so gradually. That was good, at least. Especially her hair. In places it had almost burned down to the follicle, but in the last few minutes it seemed to have completely evened itself out, growing only in the shorter spots until they were uniform with what hadn't burned quite so thoroughly.

"Weird," the human decided. "But you're pretty weird too, so that's not really a big deal…"

Finn reached into his bag, pulling out a small sack of jerky. Finn liked jerky. Salty chewy chomp. Delish. The Last Human leaned back against the stone wall, munching contentedly. He wondered for a moment if Marceline would get anything out of jerky. "Huh… I guess not. Maybe? There's a little red in there…"

He leans back, chewing as he thinks. "Will those injuries make her hungry?" he wondered. Finn remembered what happened the last time Marceline got hungry and had nothing to sate her appetite. How would the injuries exacerbate that? The Last Human looked about, scanning the area for anything suitable. "The lava down below is right out. We've already been down that line," he said, before growling in frustration. "Gob flobbit. Nothing but grey stone all over the place…"

"Hahhh…" Marceline groaned, shifting her head over from one shoulder to the other. Finn sat up, scooting across the floor over to her.

"You there Marcie?" he asked her, reaching up to hold her shoulder. His fingers somehow wound up on her cheek. A spot that had been burnt raw was now unmarred. Smooth, silky, cool to the touch…

"Mmmh… Finn?" Her red eyes flickered open, searching his face. There were things Finn didn't recognize in that expression, like dependence, and vulnerability. "Where are we…?"

"Not too far from… Well, down there," he responded, gesturing around. "We're still in the staircase. I found you some shade…"

"I… I can tell," she responded. The Vampire Queen leaned into his hand, pinning his fingers between her shoulder and cheek. There was no force behind it, but Finn felt bound there anyways. "Thank you, Finn. You saved my life…"

"Ehh… Well, it wasn't really anything," he insisted, feeling the tips of his ears heat up. "I… I just… You're my friend!"

The exclamation puzzled Marceline, who looked to him curiously. Finn sighed, ordering his thoughts. "I help my friends," he finished. The smile that Marcie gave him brought the flips back to his stomach. "Jerky?" Finn offered. "They're not exactly red, but… Kinda maroonish?"

"I definitely need… Something," Marceline said in a weary voice. Finn felt her fingers curl weakly around his elbow, before falling limp. "I've… I don't really have much left in the tank…"

"Here…" Finn fished a piece of it out of the sack, holding it up to Marceline's lips. "Go ahead, try this. There's more if it helps."

Finn picked Marceline's head off of her shoulder, holding it up as straight as he could while he held the jerky infront of her mouth. Curling back her lips, the vampire bit into the cured meat, draining the pigment from it. It took her several minutes to drain the piece of its red, and she seemed visibly exhausted when she was done. "Not… Not much…" she whispered. "But it's definitely there…"

"Alright, take it easy for a bit, then I'll give you more," Finn directed, and Marceline chuckled, giving a tiny nod before falling silent. Finn eyed the surroundings, listening for any approaching visitors. "Why hasn't Thoros sent more of his peeps?"

"Well… Maybe he thinks we're… Already dead? Or at least that I am… I don't think he thought you were a credible threat…" Talking so much made Marcie's head throb painfully; she issued a whimpering groan, pressing her head against Finn's arm.

"Easy, you're resting right now," Finn admonished. "Here, more jerky, less talky." Finn tipped his friend's head forward, putting the second piece of cured meat in biting range. She drained it faster than the first piece, but still sluggishly. He offered the vampire a second piece, which she also drained, but Marceline refused the third piece. Just off of curiosity, Finn popped a grey piece of jerky into his mouth. "Huh… You really do only eat the red," he said in amazement.

"Heh… Pretty much…"

They sat like that for a while, Finn occasionally feeding Marceline a piece of jerky. For Finn, it was extremely nerve-wracking. He felt that if he as much as breathed wrong, he'd ruin everything. How, he wasn't sure, but he was sure that he would.

For Marceline, it felt refreshingly nice. "It isn't often you have people around to rely on, is it?" she asked herself. "Certainly not when things get that bad. Enjoy it. You can bring back the spunk and the sass and the self-reliance later… Just enjoy it."

By the end of the bag, Marceline could feel some of the strength returning to her limbs. She could now grasp things and hold them; midway through she took the bag from Finn, feeding herself as her fingers regained their functions. That was definitely something Marceline wasn't going to allow to continue; she was going to feed herself, if she could say anything about it.

"You're looking a little better," Finn offered. "Those burns closed up nice and clean."

"Mm," Marceline hummed, nodding. She tugged at the clothes Finn had placed on her; the sweatshirt was definitely too big. The hood almost completely obscured her vision, bunching up around her neck as it was both too deep and too tall for her. Her hair helped fill it out some, but she still had to straighten it every now and then. There was a peculiar scent to the fabric; something warm and familiar but also bright and clean. It seemed to remind her of the tree-house almost immediately; of nights spend down by the fireplace, bundled up on the couch with every blanket in the place, or up on the lookout, with all the stars stretched out above her. She had taken her share of those nights, having lived in the place herself.

"We should get moving," Finn said. "It's still a while before it's gonna get dark, and I don't think we should stick around that long. Do you think you could walk?"

Marceline tried to get her feet under her body, tossing out thoughts that made her knees feel weaker than they already were, but the joints wouldn't quite support her weight. "I… I don't think so," Marceline said, leaning against the column. "I need more red… Either that or more time."

"Well," Finn said, standing up into a cautious crouch. "I don't think we have much time. At least not here. I'm surprised we haven't been interrupted yet, this place looks like mad peeps come through here. So we should go." Finn paused to think. "Well, what else do we have that's red?"

Marceline grinned evily. "Well you do, bright eyes," she teased, baring her fangs at him. Finn blanched, like he usually did at Marceline's threats, but then his expression turned thoughtful again. She could hear the gears clanking.

"Well…" Finn said, scratching his chin. "Could I possibly make a… Well, a donation? While still keeping enough to keep the ticker ticking?"

"You're… Offering? Some of your blood?" Marceline looked awestruck. Because she was. Finn ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"Well I mean, yeah. If it'd help. Not all of it! Just enough to get you up and running…?" Finn looked like his head was about to explode.

Marceline fixed her eyes on some imaginary spot on her pants, hoping no rosy pink was seeping through her natural pallor and hoping, if it did, that the hood hid it. "H-how do you know I won't just bleed you out?" she asked haltingly.

"Marcie, you're like one of my best friends ever," Finn insisted, his normally jovial voice firm and forceful. "You wouldn't do that to me, you're one of my peeps. A comrade… Right?"

She could feel his eyes fixed on her, waiting for the next objection. "And you're sure? That you trust me and all that stuff? This is like a big deal, Finn. Like dangerous."

Finn's face took an odd look, one Marceline didn't recognize from him. Finn was a carefree, jubilant soul. Almost childish. "He looks… Old," she thought. "Tired, too."

"Marcie," he said. "I've a lot of blood over the years. A little more to help a friend isn't too much to ask. I've probably lost more for reasons that are a lot less important."

It made sense as Marceline thought of it; Finn was the greatest hero active in Ooo. His day in and day out life was questing for the good of Ooo's people, and no matter how the kid saw it, that meant going up against the meanest, nastiest beings in the place. Ooo wasn't a safe place. It hadn't been since the Mushroom War, and some with the insight into those times would say that it wasn't safe even before the bombs fell.

"The things that this kid has had to go through…" She considered, unsure how she had known the boy so long without wondering about his perspective. "You've had a thousand years to deal with all of this… With good and evil and death and distruction. And… And things going on around you that you can't control, no matter how hard you try… And he's only seventeen! But… He deals with it better than you do." She considered Finn again, looked him from top to bottom. "Who is he? And why did you never think that there was more there than what there appeared to be? He's not stupid. He understands what danger means… He may even understand it better than you do."

Marceline sighed, looking at her hands. "Alright," she said quietly, before fixing her red eyes to his blue. "If you're sure, then alright."

"O-okay then," Finn said, nodding quickly, uncomfortably. "Well… What do I do?"

Marceline chuckled, wiggling herself further up against him. "Relax," she said, an order rather than advice. Finn tried his best as his vampire friend made herself at home, sliding her legs across his to take a seat in his lap. Her nose was inches from his own, her ruby-red eyes huge and deep, filled with captivating detail. He could feel his heart skip a beat, and distantly wondered if she had noticed. "And chin up."

"Marcie?" Finn said nervously as he complied. "You're… Kinda really close…"

"Relax," she told him with a whisper in Finn's ear that sent a strange shiver down his spine. He felt her fingers press against his face, her thumb covering his lips, raising goosebumps as she pressed her cool form against his bare torso. Her head slid to the side, bringing her lips against his neck.

"Hahhhh…" Finn gasped, another, larger tremor racing down his spine as Marceline bit down, drinking deeply from his vein. Finn could see stars swimming behind his eyelids, as his hand flew to the back of Marceline's head. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he told himself that if she didn't stop, he'd pull her off of him, but Finn wasn't really sure he'd be able to manage it. The Vampire Queen only drank for a few moments, a second or two, but it felt like he was sitting there for hours, his head swimming, his nose filled with the smell of her hair. It was a sweet smell, but also dark and powerful, like strong incense. When Marceline pulled back, the two sharp spikes of pain in his neck reduced itself to a low burn. Finn immediately rubbed the spot where she had bit him as Marcie sat back down on the stone next to him, but the puncture wounds were already gone.

"It was a feeding, not a turning," Marcie immediately said, purposefully looking the other way. "So you won't start to get hungry yourself, and there shouldn't be any marks."

"Are you alright?" the human asked, as though she hadn't said anything at all. "Do you feel stronger?"

"…I'll be fine," Marceline said after a while, casting her red eyes back to look at Finn. There was no hurt on his face, only concern. "He said that he could take it," the vampire reflected. "And he had told the truth."

"Good," Finn said with his usual grin. "That's just math. Now come on, let's get going."

Marceline picked herself up, and after a small moment to collect her thoughts, floated up into the air, careful to keep hidden from the sunbeams streaming down through the holes in the walls. She watched her human friend march on up the steps, head loose and alert, and she wondered again about the kinds of things he keeps hidden, out of sight, out of mind.